Story_intro: "It is the year 2102. A brave new world, the age of the
synthetic humans, who rule and violate the remaining pitiful natural human
population. Most prized are the bellies of pregnant women and girls, and
their ovaries, which the synthetics need to `harvest' for their own
biotechnical reproduction. Commander D'lar is a military officer who
regularly leads raiding parties on helpless natural humans. But one day he
saves a beautiful young pregnant early teenaged girl from rape and
violation, and he begins a journey which will force him to challenge the
authority of the society in which he lives.

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Before reading this text, I think you want to read about this author
Tiberius. http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Sergd...Tiberius/s
tories_by_Tiberius.htm
**************************************************************************
What I know? It is known, that his stories could be found in the Internet
five years ago, but then they unexpectedly were gone. Very similar on a
situation with author Red Rose. Imaginations Tiberius even more refined,
than at Red Rose. His stories to name difficult even the erotic. There
absolutely there is no love and humanity, but there is a demonic cult of
violence. And the depravity of characters of his stories even cannot be
compared with Red Rose. More similar on stories de Sad where characters
take pleasure in murder, rapes, humiliations, crying of a victim etc.
Similar, that the writer created the imaginations or under narcotic
intoxication, or as Karen Fletcher, heavy mental illness. These suspicions
are caused by the text in which he writes about himself. "....Perhaps I
should start off by explaining why my pen name is Tiberius. I am the
reincarnated spirit of the Roman Emperor Tiberius, as pictured here. I was
a strong but dour Emperor and I happened to reign at the time of Jesus
Christ's crucifixion, not that I was personally involved in any of that you
understand. As I got older, I found being Emperor a bit of a burden
really, so I established myself on the island of Capri and I pretty much
ran the Empire from there. Best of all, I amused myself on the Island by
engaging in all sorts of licentious and prurient activities, indeed just
about anything my carnal-minded, lascivious, and libidinous mind could
conjure up, was brought, dragged or presented to me, and if it was possible
to copulate, cohabitate or inseminate it, I pretty much did. Pity you
weren't all around then. It was a blast ! Down through the ages it seems
my name has been reviled just because of my little bit of fun on Capri. I
really don't know why. I was simply enjoying myself! Anyway, my spirit
has returned, and now I'm turning my attention to writing stories to
arouse, entertain, titillate or revolt you, depending on your taste. There
are some things you ought to know about me:- Firstly, I am, by and large, a
sensualist and an existentialist, believing that one must choose one's own
way in life without the aid of universal, objective standards or `truths'.
Human beings can never hope to understand why they are here; instead, each
individual must choose a goal, or moral and ethical framework, and follow
it with passionate conviction, aware of the certainty of death and the
ultimate meaninglessness of one's life. Other people's `truths',
`certainties' and moral rights and wrongs are, as existentialist author
Albert Camus' character Meursault (`The Outsider', 1942) observed, not
worth "one hair of a woman's head." And since sensual pleasures are the
only damn thing that ever seem real, or at least worthwhile to me, that has
always been my goal and I follow it with passionate conviction. You will
find this philosophical viewpoint underpins much of my writing, so I
thought I'd just spell it out for you. Secondly, just as I had to haul my
butt to Capri in order to really let my hair down, I am interested in the
lifestyles and experiences of people who go to live in foreign or exotic
places and make whoopie, as it were. You will find some of my stories are
drawn from this theme. Oh, and by the way, some writers choose to write
stories based on their own experience, while others prefer to allow their
imaginations to run wild in writing about characters events and situations.
My stories encompass both: personal first hand knowledge and experience,
and those of others known personally, as well as pure fiction derived from
my feverish imagination. I suspect, in some cases, you would be surprised
if you knew the fact from the fiction. Finally, in line with my point of
view, I write primarily to please and entertain myself. Of course, if you
should happen to `connect' with where I am coming from, so to speak, and
enjoy my stories as well, then I am delighted, and would love to hear from
you. If you don't like them, you can tell me that also, although I may
just crucify you! (Small Emperor's joke there).

Yours without guilt or reservation.

Tiberius"......
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Being guided by Russian proverb "that is written by a pen you will not cut
down an axe" (Chto napisano perom, ne vyrubish toporom) I host the text for
your reading

WARNING ... This story contains descriptions of sexual ncounters
between pre-teenagers and adults.

Baby Harvest

by

Tiberius

North America

The Year 2152 ==========================

ONE...

"It is the age of the Synthetics. Created in our image, the products of
our scientific biological ingenuity, but also of our arrogance, they reign
over us, the Naturals, who made them. We made them to serve us. Now they
enslave us. We face extinction at the hands of those who took command of
natural selection to evolve as the dominant species on the planet. We made
them superior to ourselves. We have no one else to blame but ourselves.
We made them perfect, leaving out nothing -- except the one great asset in
ourselves: the capacity for good..."
Commander D'lar threw the book down to the floor. He'd read such
ranting from the naturals before. He had always dismissed it. The author
was certainly dead, and long ago. A learned natural, perhaps, scribbling
his dwindling thoughts of loss and failure, hoping someone, sometime, would
read it. Probably written just after the Great Negation as it was now
called -- the struggle between synthetics and naturals -- when synthetics
rose up across the planet to defeat the inferior creatures who'd created
them merely to be their servants. That was fifty years ago, ending in what
the naturals called the year 2102. Now, in this year -- S50 in the new
calendar of the synthetics -- their Global Order reigned. It comprised
synthetic leaders from every country. Race, culture and language no longer
divided the nations. The uniformity of their physical perfection had
brought consensus, a will to enhance the synthetic species, and to

eliminate what was left of the naturals, to drive them into extinction.

At least it had been that way at the time this learned natural had
written his sad reflection on the fate of his kind. Now things had
changed, though hardly for the better for the naturals. After the triumph
of the synthetics, they discovered that despite their physical perfection,
strength, beauty, and sexual vigor, regressive gene errors rendered them
incapable of normal sexual reproduction. However, biotechnology enabled
them to create and renew themselves synthetically, and always to physical
perfection. But to do this they needed the core elements -- chemicals,
DNA, and other biological substances -- from the naturals, in order to
manufacture their kind.

At first great colonies of naturals were herded into areas for
procreative harvesting. Those of reproductive age, or younger, were forced
to copulate to produce the substances needed by the synthetics. Semen from
young men and ovarian eggs from girls were taken. But it was the contents
of the wombs of pregnant females which were most highly prized: fetuses and
fluids, extracted and then processed for the nutrient chemicals, provided
all the building blocks for synthetic bio-technical reproduction.

But naturals in captivity soon lost hope, lost the will to live, the
will to reproduce. So it was decided to let the younger naturals flee, to
scrounge as best they could, to survive any way they could manage. Despite
their desperation, the strategy worked. In the wilds naturals managed to
survive in nomadic loosely formed groups. And they reproduced, as the
synthetics hoped they would.

Periodically the synthetics would attack the naturals, keeping their
numbers under control by exterminating those past reproductive age. At the
same time, sperm and ovaries would be taken from the young ones. But most
of all they would seek out the pregnant females to take their precious
cocktail of chemicals and elements from their bulging bellies.

This was known as 'baby harvesting'.

==================================

TWO...

D'lar caught his own image in a broken mirror on the wall. At nearly
seven feet, with a broad powerful frame and rippling muscles, he was
perfect. For just a moment he allowed himself the luxury of vanity and
stared at his own image in the mirror. His deep blue eyes stared back at
him. He was lost in thought, about the past, about the time of the
naturals, and their miserable existence as the breeders and producers of
baby nutrients for the synthetics. To him it seemed an existence without
honor, without hope.

Screams from outside brought him back into focus. Just then an
underling burst in to the room.

"Commander D'lar! The naturals in this area have been rounded up. What
are your orders?"

"As always," he replied. "Vaporize the older and sick. Separate the
younger by sex. Congregate the pregnant females and prepare them for the
extractor androids. I'll inspect them myself shortly."

"Sir!" the subordinate said, nodding curtly and slapping his chest to
show obedience. Then he left the room.

D'lar walked over to the window. Flashes of light signaled the
termination of the older naturals -- those over forty. The soldiers fired
their weapons and instantly the man or woman was reduced to black dust on
the ground. To one side the young men and women and boys and girls were
herded into groups, roughly based on age and sex. And to the other side
were the pregnant women, screaming, clutching their bellies, or each other.
The soldiers surrounded them, stripped them, prodded them, and taunted them
mercilessly. The women shrieked in terror, for they knew that the
synthetics had come primarily for them, and they knew why.

They had come to harvest their babies.

***

Of the naturals not herded for harvesting, or exterminated for age or
infirmity, the soldiers raped many. It was, as usual, a brutal free for
all.

A few attractive young men and boys were held down and raped anally by
some soldiers -- this was permitted since the synthetics engaged in sex
purely for pleasure, and all tastes were tolerated.

But it was the females -- including the young girls -- who suffered the
most.

Women and girls -- some as young as three or four -- were on their
backs, or on their knees, screaming as massively endowed men, such as
synthetic males were, pounded into them vaginally or up the rectum. A few
were servicing the soldiers orally, barely able to take the huge organs
into their mouths. Many were already bleeding from their bodily orifices.
Most would be forced to take three or four soldiers before their ordeal was
through. The littler ones -- under five -- probably wouldn't survive.
Usually they ruptured during the second or third assault. D'lar often
thought this a waste of future natural female reproducers. But it was an
acceptable price for maintaining camaraderie amongst the troops. And the
dead girls' ovaries were never wasted.

Mothers and daughters were ravaged together. The soldiers liked to make
them hear each other cries of anguish. If a mother didn't appeal
physically to the men, usually one soldier would restrain her while others
enjoyed the daughter, one man after another, every orifice, until they'd
had enough, or she was dead.

The terrified pregnant females were being prepared for the extractor
androids. D'lar looked on. But another sight off to his right took his
attention. Three soldiers were about to violate a young girl. She looked
about twelve or thirteen years old. Her long blond hair was dirty and
unkempt, but underneath the dirt D'lar saw a beautiful face. When the
soldiers ripped her clothes off, he felt a surge of lust for her lean,
willowy, elegant body. Her small nipples stuck out noticeably for a girl
her age and the outer lips of her sex appeared swollen and puffy, though
the men hadn't yet raped her.

The soldiers spread her all ways. They were forcing her thighs apart,
lusting for her genitals. One then fingered her vagina, pulling at the
lips and folds, to expose her opening. Then he forced three fingers in her
deeply, feeling inside her. The others taunted her about what was to
follow.

"Shall I fist the cunt?" he asked the other three soldiers. "Make her
bleed before we fuck her all ways?"

"Just fuck her," one replied impatiently. "C'mon, you won the toss, so
empty your load into her and then let us have a go."

"I'll go last," the other soldier said gleefully. "I want her to die
while I'm coming inside her -- I like to feel their death rattles while I'm
shooting my balls off."

"She's cute. Let's try and leave her alive to get big bellied with
babies in the future," another soldier suggested.

"Fuck that," the other one replied curtly. "Today's her last cock, and
it'll be MINE!" he added, jabbing her in the belly with his finger.

With that the girl's fate was sealed. The soldiers continued feeling
and fingering the girl, and she struggled helplessly.

Just then D'lar looked intently at the girl's middle. Despite her
leanness, he was drawn to her abdomen. He thought he saw a slight bulge.
He walked over to the soldiers and girl. As he did so the men jumped to
attention, though one pressed his foot into her belly to hold her down.

"Sir!" they barked in unison.

"Has she been scanned?" he asked curtly, pointing to the girl.

The men looked at each other. "Well---" one muttered sheepishly. "She
doesn't looked baby-bellied," another added.

D'lar puffed out air to show his displeasure. He took a scanner from
one soldier's belt. Running the device over the girl's stomach they all
heard a familiar high-pitched squeal. The men looked mortified. Young
pregnant girls were the most highly prized of all -- the contents in their
bellies perfect for reconstitution into synthetics. The soldiers could be
punished for poor performance of their duty.

"Shall we take her to the other preg nats to have her belly emptied?"
one man asked. D'lar looked at the girl, long and hard. He kept staring
at her while the men awaited their orders.

"Sir?" another soldier asked, fearful perhaps of retribution from his
superior.

"No," D'lar finally said coldly. "She's coming with me," he added
picking her up. "Now, go and enjoy another one."

"Yes Sir!" they said in unison, obviously relived they were getting off
lightly. As D'lar dragged the girl away, the men joined a queue to rape
another teenager, a red-haired girl, bellowing loudly as one man rammed
between her legs. Several soldiers were waiting to take his place. There
were other females around - older, less pretty ones - available for
violation. But, like the other soldiers, they wanted the young girls.

They stood around, their thick heavy penises exposed and swollen with
arousal. Some were stroking themselves while the rape continued. One lost
control and ejaculated into her bright red hair. A copious stream of semen
soaked her head -- a typical seminal discharge for a synthetic male. The
other men weren't impressed and glowered at him. But he was unrepentant.
"My next load will fill her belly," he grumbled. But the pretty young
redhead's groin was already awash with semen. The first man had emptied
his prodigious load into her while she screamed. A second had mounted and
inseminated her almost immediately. The third was already pummeling her
vagina, close to climax. The girl's fine red pubic hairs were soggy with
semen, as fluid streamed out of her slit. Already her labia were bleeding
from the repeated thrusting and grinding. And many more men still waiting
to take their turn at her. The soldier who'd come over her hair finally
got his chance to fuck her. He was the last of the group to take her.
Fully erect again, he went for her rectum. She bellowed at his powerful
penetration up her rear orifice.

"I thought you wanted to pussy fuck her?" one soldier said looking on.

Grunting as he rammed his penis deep into her bowels the soldier
replied, "I felt like something tighter and dryer." As he thrust viciously
up her rectum he had his hands firmly around her throat, choking her. He
climaxed soon after, the roar of his orgasm drowning out the crack the
girl's neck made as he twisted her head violently during the first of his
powerful spurts of ejaculate. He was still unleashing his fluids inside
her when the last of her death convulsions subsided.
===============================

THREE...

Soldiers brandishing weapons kept male naturals, whom had not been
exterminated, at bay in one area. They had to watch their women and
children being violated. Occasionally a man would charge towards a woman
or child servicing the soldiers in a useless effort to help them. The
soldiers would casually vaporize them as they ran. Or the natural men
would call out mournfully. "Kali...." one man moaned, as he watched his
five-year-old daughter taking her fourth soldier in a row up her tiny
behind. She was already wrecked internally, barely alive; by the time the
fifth soldier penetrated her blood, shit, and semen-smeared anus, he was
violating a dead child.

"Dead kid," a soldier standing around announced. He was miffed that
he'd missed his turn at her. He, like the others, moved on to other
queues, waiting for a chance to thrust into the groin or rectum of a
wailing natural female. The body of the dead five-year-old was dragged off
to join a pile of dead girls who also had not survived their ordeal. Semen
weeped from her ravaged groin slit leaving a fine trail as her body was
pulled to the pile.

Two extractor androids -- bright chrome, humanoid-looking machines, but
with multiple highly flexible arms to pick up, hold and operate on natural
humans -- were already picking up the girls' bodies and using puncturing
probes and needles to excise and remove their ovaries. The ovaries removed
and stored for later use by synthetic biotechnologists, the androids cast
the dead girl aside and moved on to another.

D'lar was unhappy at the particularly high wastage rate of natural
females this time. Dead, violated girls and women were strewn everywhere.
He would allow the men to take their pleasure for a while longer, then call
a stop. Nearby, a hugely endowed soldier was up-thrusting a girl, aged ten
or so, in the vagina from a standing position. He was close to orgasm, his
grunts and groans evidence of that. But the girl was bleeding copiously,
her thighs streaming with blood from her sex.

Watching on, D'lar guessed the soldier had ruptured the girl's uterus, a
pity, he thought, because she was very pretty and may well have produced
valuable baby nutrients in the future.

The soldier knew the girl was dying. But he wanted to finish her of his
way, to his own pleasure. He had his hands around her throat, choking her,
as he repeatedly filled her. She was barely conscious when he climaxed.
With his first spurt into her, he twisted her neck sharply, the cracking
sound audible even from a distance where D'lar was observing. As the
soldier finished ejaculating inside her, the girl's dead body convulsed a
few times until she was still.

"Ahhhhh..." the soldier said with satisfaction as he allowed the dead
girl to drop to the ground. It was the same soldier who'd earlier been
unable to rape at the point of death the young pregnant girl D'lar had
taken. He'd gotten his wish with this girl. But he wasn't finished.
Noticing the dead girl at his feet, mouth open, tongue half-protruding out
gruesomely, he gestured to a friend nearby who was raping an early
pubescent girl in the mouth.

"Hey Barton! -- look!" he barked to his friend, before stuffing his
penis into the dead girl's mouth, rubbing his shaft against her protruding
tongue. He looked at his friend and laughed. His friend, still violently
mouth humping his young victim, snickered back.

"Fool, Girret! They suck cock better BEFORE you kill them!"

The solder mouth-fucking the dead girl shrugged. Picking the girl up by
gripping her by the vagina, he threw her on to the dead girl pile, her
ovaries to be harvested by the androids.
======================================

FOUR...

"You can either come with me, or join them," D'lar told the blond girl
he'd taken her for his own purposes. "Make your choice, but should you
choose to come with me do not struggle, or I will kill you myself."

He was holding her and pointing to the pregnant girls who were being
processed by two extractor androids. The blond girl was quiet now, too
traumatized to scream anymore. She watched as the pregnant women and girls
were dragged to the androids, kicking, screaming, terrified. Once the
machines clutched them into their tentacle-like arms, they were powerless
to resist.

The heavily bulging females were attended to first. Long flexible
metallic arms clutched them under the arms, lifting them, until they were
forced - groin and belly straddled over the operating area of the machine -
legs stretched far apart, vagina exposed.

The blond girl held by D'lar watched as one girl, a teen like herself,
fought against her fate. Though immobilized and wrapped around the
android, she continued to struggle and scream. That ceased suddenly when
the machine inserted a syringe deep up her rectum. The girl screamed, then
went limp. Her bowels opened violently, her shit spewing on to the ground
below, the result of loss of all bodily control from the injection. She
remained conscious but groggy as the android finished the procedure.

A curved pad from a small-extended arm from the machine momentarily
scanned the women's pregnant belly, then pressed against it. A violent
jolt, then another followed. Whatever had been living and growing in her
womb was instantly killed, its heart stopped. The woman's eyes rolled back
and forth, a slight moan all she was capable of. A small tube now entered
her vagina. Once placed, it expanded to stretch and expose her vaginal
orifice. A long thin tube, expertly guided by the machine, now penetrated
the girl to the entrance of her uterus. A substance injected into the womb
had an immediate and dramatic effect: its contents instantly reduced to a
liquid state. Her previously firm bulging belly was now a watery floppy
droop.

The last step in the procedure involved draining the nutrient soup in
her womb into a container below. A powerful sucking device evacuated her
belly efficiently. The girl would have been conscious of the flood between
her legs, as what was her baby - now reduced to a reddish-brown mush of
nutrients -- taken to be processed for synthetic bio-technical engineering.
The whole procedure lasted less than five minutes.

Her belly empty, she was cast to the ground, another pregnant natural to
take her place. Most survived the procedure, left alive for further
breeding and subsequent harvesting by the synthetics. But some didn't.
One pregnant girl watching the procedure and awaiting her fate was
screaming uncontrollably. A soldier jabbed her in the belly with the butt
of his weapon. When she started to bleed between the legs, the soldiers
queue-jumped her for processing. She was dead even before the android
finished draining her belly of liquefied fetal nutrients. Like all other
females who didn't survive the raid, she was tossed on to the pile of dead
girls for her ovaries to be extracted and processed.

D'lar allowed the pretty young pregnant girl he'd taken to watch three
females forced to have their babies harvested. The last was a young girl,
like herself, in early pregnancy. For such girls, the procedure was more
difficult, it being harder to penetrate the womb, liquefy the fetus, and
evacuate the fluids. D'lar's blond girl watched as the machine drove its
tubes deep into the pregnant girl's insides via her vagina, injecting,
sucking out, and draining. The girl didn't survive the procedure. The
androids took her nutrients, then cast her body aside, moving on to the
next girl.

Half way through the last girl, D'lar's blond turned her face away. The
dead girl had been her friend; they'd become pregnant about the same time;
had talked about having their babies. Now her friend's baby was mush in a
container. Hers would suffer the same fate, if she chose to remain with
the other naturals. She had no idea what the huge commander wanted her
for. But meekly she told him she would willingly go with him.

"I'll leave you to finish here," D'lar told his lieutenant. "Make sure
some females of reproductive age are left alive," he barked, "and males
young enough to impregnate and protect them."

"Sir!" the man retorted.

D'lar pushed the young girl into his personal helicraft, and then got in
himself.

"My place," D'lar commanded his pilot, who nodded stiffly.

As the vehicle lifted upwards, the blond girl looked down to see her
group for the last time. Young girls and women were still being violated
by the soldiers, most almost insensate from repeated rape. Here and there,
males considered unnecessary were vaporized where they stood. And the
extractor androids continued their task of removing ovaries from the dead
females, and evacuating the bellies of the pregnant women, harvesting their
babies -- or at least the chemicals and nutrients of which they had been
made. ================================

FIVE...

The journey back to the city took less than thirty minutes. D'lar
ignored the blond natural girl, who sat next to him, huddled in her ragged,
thin-bare clothes. He did not want to display any interest in her in front
of the pilot. Still, he could smell her. Despite the dirt and grime, the
aroma of youth and pregnancy about her filled the helicraft. No synthetic
girl child ever smelled as good to him, no matter how pretty or sexually
subservient she might be.

D'lar's spacious home befitted a synthetic of his rank and importance.
In the well-ordered society of the synthetics, social groupings were as
well defined as they were functional. Synthetics were created for specific
purposes, and lived lifestyles according to their rank. Little was left to
chance. Biotechnology had seen to that.

The most important group -- the managers -- saw to the running of
society. They ran the elite governing structures as well as the means of
production and distribution. They commanded the most respect, and their
authority was total.

Next were the enforcers. D'lar, as a career military man, was part of
this group. They made sure the orders of the managers were carried out,
whether in business, governance, or military conduct. They had
considerable authority, and lived comfortable lifestyles, though they
deferred always to the managers. Sometimes, though, enforcers were
promoted to the managerial class, if they displayed special qualities or
demonstrated high performance.

The lowest group within the synthetic hierarchy was the drones. They
were created to serve, work and amuse the other groups in society. Their
biological design eliminated the capacity for free and independent thought,
or creativity. They followed orders -- whether that was to work, serve, or
provide pleasure for their masters. They were created in abundance, and
easily disposed of, if they failed to perform their duties.

D'lar lived alone, save for a household keeper drone woman called Kesh.
After arriving home, D'lar left the blond girl in her care, with orders to
wash and prepare her for what he called "interrogation" later. He left
them abruptly, retiring to his private rooms.

About an hour later, while D'lar was studying new technical data on a
subject of interest, a call came in from his underling back in the field.

"Commander," the man's face said on the large telescreen, "processing of
the naturals has been concluded. The wombs of twenty-one females have been
harvested, and ovaries from a total of forty females extracted.
Fifty-eight male naturals and twenty-two female naturals have been
eliminated. A group of fifty-two naturals in the age range for
procreation, or younger, have been allowed to flee. All harvested material
has been transported to the main synbio lab in the city. The harvest has
been good, sir, and we have received their thanks."

D'lar nodded curtly, "Very well. A job well done -- did you
hormone-inject all the naturals before they fled?"

"Yes, sir," the underling replied, then continued: "Sir, some of the men
have retained a group of pre-pubescent natural females for their pleasure.
They wish to keep them for a few days. When they have finished with them,
or as the naturals are deceased from violation, they will take them to the
lab for ovarian harvesting. Do they have your approval, sir?"

D'lar thought a moment. "Granted -- but for a maximum of three days
only. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly, sir."

As D'lar signed off, he knew that the time limitation on the men's
pleasure was unnecessary. Within twenty-four hours -- thirty-six at the
outside -- the young girls would all be dead, either from internal
rupturing and bleeding, or from broken necks during rape. He was aware
that the men often bet over which girl's neck would crack the loudest as
the soldier wrenched her head while climaxing inside her.

After dining, D'lar's thoughts returned to the young pregnant natural
he'd brought home. He was bristling with sexual arousal. Unlike his men,
D'lar couldn't satiate his lust during the harvest of the naturals -- that
would never be appropriate in front of the men. But the images of the day
remained with him: little and young girls being violated vaginally and
anally, again and again, until their bodies were awash with bodily fluids
and juices; the crack of a young girl's neck while a burly soldier
unleashed his load of semen into her body; and perhaps the most arousing of
all -- to him -- a pretty, dark-haired pregnant girl, her belly bulging,
her breasts drooping heavy with milk, some of it oozing from her puffy,
dark, swollen nipples, struggling hopelessly against the clutches of the
android as it perforated her womb and sucked out its watery ruby-red
contents. The gush from her belly had been enormous.

D'lar felt a massive, aching erection below. It was time to interrogate
the blond girl. ==========================

SIX...

D'lar found her in one of the secured rooms. Kesh had, as instructed,
washed and fed her. The girl was naked, though she used a bed sheet to
cover herself. As D'lar approached her, he pulled the sheet away and
glared down at her. She was shivering, both with cold, and in fear. She
was so thin, her skin such a fine creamy pale color, and the toning of her
nipples and genitals a pale almost translucent pink. Hardly any breasts at
all, D'lar noted approvingly, but her nipples were hard and erect, inviting
to be sucked, by babies, by anyone -- by him.

"Please.... Please tell me what you want with me?" she asked,
plaintively.

"Name?" he asked curtly.

"Krysta," she replied nervously.

"Age?"

"I'm not sure, thirteen, I think."

Her eyes and stare seemed older to him. Life in the scavenging nomadic
tribes of naturals was arduous -- it was meant to be. There was little
time for childhood. D'lar knew this well. He'd been hunting them and
harvesting their young for years. It still amazed him how they found the
stamina and determination to procreate in a futile effort to reassert
themselves. Certainly the hormone injections the synthetics inflicted on
any naturals they captured before releasing them helped compel them to
reproduce. But it was more than that; they seemed determined to survive.

D'lar studied the young girl, then allowed his hands to feel her. His
hands ran along her legs and thighs until he brushed the length of her sex
with the back of his hand. A few fine strands of golden hair only adorned
her vagina, still childlike and smooth to caress. He could hear her
breaths -- short, rapid, labored -- which showed her fear. With both hands
he cupped and squeezed her small swelling breasts. How hard her little
pink nipples felt. How soft her young skin was, even for a natural raised
in the wilds. He looked into her scared pensive bright blue eyes, and
stroked her pure blond hair.

"Please... What will happen to me?" she again asked, her voice
trembling.

"Not sure," he replied, noting to himself that this was the truth.

Then he examined her belly. So young, so fresh and pretty, he thought,
but still it swells inside her. Now he began to fondle her stomach,
pressing his palms against it, then rubbing softly. It was both soft to
the touch and firm at the same time. The merest hint of a curve only gave
away what was growing inside her. But for his perspicacious eye, it would
have been missed, and she would, most probably, have been 'fucked until she
broke', as his men liked to say.

The moment he saw her he decided he wanted to take her. But what he was
doing was unwise at best, dangerous at worst. It was forbidden for
synthetics to become attached to or harbor naturals. They may be taken for
short periods, either for violation, or to harvest their babies, ovaries,
sperm or other biological tissues of interest. Then they had to be either
vaporized or returned to the wilds to procreate. D'lar knew he could have
had the girl's embryo and ovaries extracted during the raid. Yet still he
took her. But he didn't know why.

"How long has the baby been inside you," he asked, plying her belly.

"Don't know, about a month, maybe longer." D'lar guessed it was closer
to two months at least.

"Who was your mate?" he enquired, just lightly gripping the ever so
slight curve of her pregnant middle. He felt her tense up, frightened at
what he might do to her baby.

"Don't know," she said again, slightly shrugging her shoulders. "There
were many. The men passed us around. The younger ones took us last. Two
babies already have bled from my belly. Now you want this one..."

D'lar continued to play with her belly as she spoke. He knew she was
telling the truth. Natural males raped all natural girls from early age.
Despite their pitiable plight, naturals were compelled, by continued
heightened sexual arousal -- the result of the injections given to them by
the synthetics -- to copulate. They did take mates, but younger females
were shared and passed around for sex. As soon as the girls were old
enough to withstand penetration, they were used, their mothers powerless to
prevent it. By age five most natural girls were deflowered.

Like all synthetics, D'lar held the naturals in contempt. But looking
at Krysta he also felt a sense of envy; envy at the male natural who'd
spurted his semen into her belly and put a baby inside her. Like all
synthetic males, he could ejaculate volumes of fluid every day, and enjoy
overpowering orgasms. But his sperm would never fertilize a young girl's
womb, like this one. How strongly the desire to fill a young girl with his
offspring felt these days, he reflected. He had everything, was physically
perfect, would live a long, healthy life -- like all high class synthetics
-- and could enjoy any and all the pleasures he could think of, except the
pleasure of depositing his semen into the belly of a girl and watch her
womb balloon with life from his life.

The scent of the girl suddenly absorbed D'lar. He parted her legs and
pushed his face into her sex. The smell of her vagina filled his nostrils.
As perfect as synthetic women and girls were, there was something about the
smell and taste of a natural's vagina which D'lar loved. "Mmm.. your
cunt... your moist pregnant cunt..." he mumbled in a rare moment of
display before a natural. Ravenously he licked at her lips and clitoris,
sucking on them powerfully, before darting his tongue into the opening of
her sex.

Briefly he pushed his nose into her anus, smelling her odor; it was a
fragrance he liked almost as much as natural young girl sex. He noted how
gaping her anus was, possibly just the way of her young body, or maybe the
result of frequent anal sex at the hands of male naturals. Whatever, he
admired the color of the walls of her rectum, sniffing again to breathe in
the scent from her rear orifice.

Krysta froze at the huge synthetic man's intrusions. Despite her age,
she was accustomed to be used for pleasure by men. In her tribe, girls
were passed around for pleasure almost from the time they could walk. From
menstruation on, to be taken for sex was almost a daily occurrence, such
was the urge amongst natural males to copulate.

Being taken for pleasure wasn't new to her. But being at the mercy of a
synthetic male terrified her. Krysta had seen what synthetic males did to
natural girls. Natural females feared rape by synthetic men above all
else. Their huge sexual organs tore the muscles of vaginas and rectums
during intercourse, often causing permanent damage -- if they survived at
all.

But D'lar's attentions were unusual to the girl. He wasn't hurting her,
yet. As she felt his fingers gently probing her openings, caressing her
delicate folds, pinching her small breasts, she wondered when she'd have to
endure massive and agonizing penetration into her young body.

When D'lar stood up and disrobed to display and huge and urgent
erection, the young girl thought her time to be violated and torn had
arrived. The size of his organ made her gasp. Even for a synthetic, he
was especially huge: a penis so long, it would tear her open from the first
thrust; so thick it would stretch her walls in agony; and balls so heavy
and pendulous, the thought of him unleashing his discharge inside her was
frightening.

D'lar gazed down at her. He stared at the crack of her young vagina.
The desire to fill her between the legs was enormous. And then her anus --
pathway to her bowels -- gaping, gripping, a perfect passageway to give him
pleasure, at least until she hemorrhaged and died. Then he could cut out
her womb and ovaries and send them to the laboratory...

"Please!...."

Krysta's mournful cry jolted D'lar. He glared down at her pleading
face. No, he wouldn't perforate her vagina and rectum just yet. But still
he needed something. Firmly, but not brutally, he took hold of the back of
her head. Drawing his immense, swollen penis to her mouth, he looked into
her lovely but scared bright blue eyes. Slowly she parted her quivering
tender pink lips to receive him. ============================

SEVEN...

The young pregnant girl was barely able to accommodate the knob of the
enormous penis pushed into her mouth, yet still, despite her fear, she
sucked and licked at its girth, hoping that drawing his fluids and giving
him pleasure would satisfy him.

As she had learned with many natural males who'd used her mouth for sex
in the past, Krysta encircled the strange synthetic commander's cock with
her hands, stroking and caressing it skillfully while she sucked on it,
hoping to arouse him to climax.

But as she did so, fear still overwhelmed her. She'd witnessed
synthetic men mouth-sex girls like her before. She'd seen the
extraordinary volume of their discharge. Some girls even choked and died
in their flood of semen. She'd seen it herself, from a distance, when
three synthetic men used a girl's mouth: the girl had gurgled and coughed
and choked as a torrent of hot sticky fluid spurted into her mouth and down
her throat. Sometimes they unintentionally killed girls this way, lost in
their lust and passion. Other times they meant to kill a girl this way.
One man pinching a girl's nose while a second forced his enormous penis
down her throat, thrusting until he climaxed, enjoying her kicks,
struggles, and muffled cries as she choked on his girth and ejaculate, was
a popular pleasure with them.

But D'lar seemed intent not to choke Krysta. He merely groaned to her
in his arousal to lick faster, suck at the tip of his penis harder, lap the
length his large, swollen erection with her soft, moist little tongue.
Krysta sensed that a need for relief, not a desire to kill her, motivated
the Commander. She did her best to stimulate and please him.

And when D'lar did climax, some minutes later, he took over stimulating
his organ himself, first stroking and then pumping feverishly his penis,
until, leaning over her face and body, he exploded in a deluge of hot
ejaculate, soiling her blond hair and fair face with it, guiding numerous
and powerful spurts, grunting grimacing and groaning, like a beast, until
the final explosive streams of his semen splashed on to her pregnant belly,
leaving a pool of white sticky fluid.

Krysta, on her back, drenched by seminal fluid and reeking of it, looked
up somewhat astonished, and a little relieved that the giant synthetic
commander had taken his pleasure with her without tearing her vagina or
rectum open, or choking or strangling her to death. Nor had he harvested
the baby inside her by sucking or scooping out her womb -- so far.

After climaxing over her, D'lar left the young girl abruptly. Before
doing so, Krysta noticed that he glared at her intently while catching his
breath. It was a frightening look, but yet did not convey any hatred
towards her. After he left, she began to wipe off the flood of drying,
sticky, smelly semen from her head and belly, and wondered what for what
purpose she had been brought there. =================

EIGHT...

"Councilor Mardoh is here to see you sir," D'lar's house-keeper
announced.

It was a short time after he had emptied his fluids over Krysta's young
body. The Councilor's arrival came as a surprise. As a member of the
Global Council of Synthetics -- the supreme body with coordinated synthetic
hegemony across the world -- she was a woman of great importance, to whom
courtesy had to be shown at all times. She was also an acquaintance, of
sorts, to D'lar. She had helped in furthering his career, and he felt in
her debt for that.

Councilor Mardoh was a beautiful woman -- like all female synthetics of
the managerial elite -- with medium, business-like but stylish dark blond
hair, a tall but perfectly proportioned body, full but not vulgarly so
breasts, and a mind that was as keenly sharp and it was ruthless.
Ambitious and determined, she was also known for her prodigious sexual
appetites -- excessive, even for a member of her class. Young drone boys
and girls were regularly violated, tortured and disposed off in her
household to quench her thirst for pleasure. But young naturals suffered
even worse fates to please her. Her hatred of naturals knew no bounds, and
her agents would scour tribes of naturals, forcibly remove men, women and
children which fitted her tastes, and bring them to her. Young pregnant
girls and women were a favorite recreation; she had her own baby harvesting
machines that sucked the life out of wombs with gruesome efficiency. None
ever survived. No natural ever survived a visit to the Councilor's place.

"D'lar!" she said with just a little warmth as he entered the room. "I
hope you don't mind my calling in unexpectedly?" she said, sitting down, as
if the house was hers.

"Not at all," D'lar replied, not entirely truthfully.

After pleasantries, the Councilor came to the point: She told him it had
been conveyed to her that he had taken a young pregnant natural girl from
the day's baby harvest, and that she was at his house.

"It's unlike you, D'lar. You know the rule that naturals are to be
harvested, or taken for pleasure prior to harvesting at a biolab," she said
sternly, adding, "I myself vaporize them after just a few short hours.
That's long enough to suck the goodies from their bellies or balls, or
enjoy them during their final... discomfort -- unless there's a good
reason to keep them." An evil smile came to her mouth as she spoke. After
a pause she went on, "The penalty for longer-term ..., er, involvement with
a natural is quite severe..."

"I'm fully aware of the penalty, Councilor," D'lar replied politely but
with thinly disguised annoyance in his voice. The Councilor's hypocrisy
was breathtaking. It was well known she kept naturals for long periods for
her own pleasure -- especially prepubescent girls which she particularly
enjoyed violating in every way before harvesting their eggs. No one
believed her excuse that she kept them for 'authorized medical research'.

"I'm taking my pleasure with her overnight, then I intend to take her to
the lab to harvest her embryo," he went on.

"Ah!... I see," Councilor Mardoh exclaimed. "You wish to extract her
embryo in tact and then modify and grow it as a drone pleasure servant, is
that right?"

"Well, I'm actually thinking about using it to create a female familial.
I like the pregnant natural girl's coloring and body type. Her baby --
with synthetic adaptation -- may meet my preferences, but only if ..."

All synthetics of rank were allowed to create a maximum of two
'familials' -- what naturals used to call a son or daughter. They could
take the DNA, or embryo, or fetus, from any source of natural human,
genetically modify it to synthetic standards, and then, after fast-track
incubation to a desired age, raise it as their familial. Synthetics were
expected to train and mould their familials, and, in succeeding them,
familials were granted the same status in society. Sexual enjoyment of
one's familial was acceptable and indeed encouraged. It was common for
synthetic men of status to create familial girls or boys according to their
preferred physical characteristics and sexual tastes. At forty, D'lar had
left this part of his life until reasonably late. The Councilor understood
this.

"May I see her?" the Councilor asked, staring intently at the Commander.

D'lar thought for a moment, and then requested Krysta be brought to
them.

D'lar's drone house keeper, Kesh, herded Krysta in a few minutes later.
She was still naked, and reeked of semen. It was drying in her hair, and
patches of white flakes were evident on her belly. Upon seeing the girl,
the Councilor, seeing and smell sex about her, smiled broadly. The sight
pleased her, D'lar noticed. He was fucking her for his pleasure, the
Councilor could see that. But there was no blood around her vagina or
seeping from her rectum. Had D'lar copulated with her there would have
been, as well as tissue tearing, lingering wincing pain, and bruising.
D'lar knew the Councilor would notice these absences. He thought quickly.

"Of course, I haven't violated this pregnant natural as much as I would
like," he said. "I want her to keep the thing in her belly, at least until
she's analyzed in the biolab tomorrow. If she gushed her womb out all over
my bed or floor tonight, it wouldn't do ME much good, would it?"

"Oh, I don't know..." the Councilor said, looking at Krysta, but not
replying directly to D'lar. She stared at the girl. "Very good stock,"
she added, taking hold of the girl. "Nice coloring, body shape ... The
baby in her belly would make a pretty familial, after it's been removed and
modified. Has your scan already confirmed a female embryo?"

"It has. But of course it all depends on the DNA analysis, physical
characteristics projection, and ..."

"Confirmation that she'll be cute enough for you to copulate with after
fast-track development right?" Councilor Mardoh said with a laugh.

"Something like that," D'lar said with a forced smile. "Of course..."

The Councilor's next action stopped him short. With one hand on
Krysta's belly, and one on her back, she bent the girl over, sharply,
making her grunt and expel air.

"Errgh..." Kyrsta exclaimed, grunting from discomfort. Then a squirt of
urine ran down her legs. It was an involuntarily response. The Councilor
sneered, but enjoyed the girl's humiliation.

Then D'lar noticed that the Councilor was pressing her hand firmly into
Krysta's womb, repeatedly applying pressure and kneading the girl with her
palm.

"You know, D'lar, if you do like this for an hour or so, maybe less,
she'll evacuate her womb spontaneously. Just catch her discharge in a bowl
and take it to the lab. They'll be able to construct a baby from the DNA
mush that drops out of her slit. And after she's emptied her womb, you can
copulate with her again tonight, and REALLY enjoy yourself -- at least
until she ruptures." After a pause she added, "Anyway that's what I'd do,
although I'd just throw the mush away, of course. I have no interest in
creating familials."

Mardoh was looking at D'lar as she repeatedly pressed hard into Krysta's
belly. He knew that she was testing him, checking out his motives.

Maintaining his composure, D'lar raised a hand: "Ah, Councilor, if it's
all the same with you, I'd prefer to continue my pleasure with her intact.
If she does empty her womb while I'm enjoying her, I will, as you say,
collect the fluids and take them to the lab tomorrow."

Councilor Mardoh smiled sternly at the Commander before allowing the
girl to stand up. The assault on her belly had frightened and hurt her.
She was breathing rapidly, trying to recover, clutching at her middle.
Indifferent to the girl's pain, the Councilor fingered Krysta's vagina,
pulling at her labial folds, and inserting her fingers deep inside the
girl.

After feeling Krysta's genitals and anus for a few moments, Mardoh
turned to D'lar. "I'm told we'll have enough baby stuff in our labs within
five years, we won't need these vermin naturals for their reproductive
tissues," she said sniffing her fingers for Krysta's genital aroma.
"Still, I for one would miss hearing them suffer -- especially the stupid
females, clutching those pregnant bellies. Taking pleasure with drones is
satisfactory enough, but they don't scream and cry as pleasingly as the
naturals - especially a mother and daughter together..."

A lustful gaze came over Mardoh's face for a few seconds.

No, D'lar thought to himself, but did not say, also thinking that while
synthetics hated the naturals, they needed them, and not just for baby
stuff. There was something muted about synthetics engaging in sex with
each other. Even rape and torture with naturals felt more real.

"So, you ARE taking her to the lab tomorrow?" Councilor Mardoh,
regaining focus, asked, and also flinching D'lar back into attention.
Again he felt her unsolicited scrutiny, and did not like it.

"Certainly," D'lar answered.

There was a long pause. The Councilor looked at him. "Good, well
that's all I wanted to know," she said, standing up.
=============================

NINE...

D'lar couldn't bring himself to take pleasure with the girl any more
that night. After Councilor Mardoh left, he had her taken back to her
room. He was troubled, not just about the Councilor's interest in him, but
also about his conflicted feelings about Krysta.

Next morning he felt more resolved, or at least he thought so. He took
her to the biolab, only a short distance away, without speaking directly to
her at all. An old friend, Le der, the lab's chief biotechnician, greeted
him as he arrived.

"Are you contemplating a familial creation?" Le der asked. "If not, it
would be easiest to liquefy the contents of her womb for draining. She's
young enough to be sent back for further impregnation by the naturals."

"I see," the biotechnician said. "Well, if you do go for a familial,
it'd be best to extract her womb in total. Of course she won't survive,
but the embryo will be pristine for us to process - a 'cut and bake' as we
call it," he said with a laugh.

"Let's scan and analyze first," D'lar said, maintaining a cool manner.
Krysta looked visibly scared, shaking, her breathing short and rapid. Le
der noticed it and looked at her uncaringly. "I love them when they're
this young and pregnant," he said. "Nice small wombs, nice tight twats.
Getting in there is loads of fun..."

They headed for Le der's state-of-the-art laboratory. Along the way
they passed a lab in which a late term pregnant woman -- a natural -- was
being forced into position on a womb extractor machine. D'lar, stopped to
watch. As a result, so did Le der and the girl.

The machine was more complex than the android extractors in the field.
D'lar hadn't seen it before. Two synthetic men were handling her, getting
her into the machine. The men were "scalpers" -- freelance trackers who
captured naturals and were paid credits for bringing them to the lab. As
the woman cried out and struggled, one man cupped and patted her bulging
girth. "Don't worry, preg-nat. We'll drain that belly of yours before you
know it."

Into position, body lying forward, arms and legs immobilized, with her
belly resting against a curved shiny-metal plate, the biotechnician was
ready. D'lar heard the familiar sound of an electronic zap from the metal
plate to her belly as the life within was terminated.

The woman cried out. "Oops," the attending technician said, "I should
have done this first," he said, touching the computer controls. An
automatic syringe at the end of a flexible arm shot up her rectum.

She cried out again, the syringe lodged its anesthetic into her body,
and she went limp. Computer-guided tubes found her vagina and probed
deeply. D'lar moved on a few minutes later. By then, the reddish-brown
womb fluids were draining into the clear plastic container below. One of
the scalpers was kneeling in front of her, sucking at her nipples, drinking
her breast milk, as she was being drained. The technician looked on,
shaking his head with disapproval. The scalper's associate thought it
amusing.

"With a late-termer like that, she'll drain for an hour or more," Le der
said to D'lar, "-- her belly, I mean, not her tits," he added with a laugh.

"Do you like them that big?" D'lar asked.

"Oh, yes," his friend said. "Lots of nutrients and tissue for
harvesting. That's why we pay scalpers to bring them here. Excuse me for
saying, but they don't usually survive your soldiers if they're taken
during a raid."

D'lar nodded, as they continued on to the lab.
=========================================

TEN...

Krysta was placed into position, on her back, with her legs raised in
stirrups, in Le der's lab bench. She offered no resistance. Whatever fate
the big commander had in mind for her, struggling, she knew, would make no
difference.

Le der scanned her first, confirming a female embryo. "I'll take a
sample and form a projection," he said. One tube entered her vagina,
stretching it, before a smaller one with a fine needle entered and
proceeded along her exposed opening. Krysta was shaking as she felt the
needle enter her womb. Some automated movements from the guided needle
caused Krysta to flinch, then the needle was withdrawn.

"A good sample," Le der said. "Just a minute or two and I'll have a
projection." He worked at the computer screens for a while and then
announced he was ready.

"At nine months..." he said looking up at the large screen. D'lar could
see a computer-generated image of Krysta's baby girl, based on the DNA, at
birth age.

"Let me see at three years, and then at three year intervals," D'lar
asked.

Le der worked at the console. A moment later, the screen showed a
pretty little naked blond-haired girl with bright blue eyes.

"At six..." Le der announced. The little girl, older, even more pretty,
her nipples pink, a perfect slit between her legs, came on-screen.

"At nine... A very tasty age, don't you think?" Le der said.

D'lar looked at the image. A nine-year-old fair-featured blond girl of
great beauty, nipples just slightly protruding, hips just beginning to
round a little, a groin-slit of perfection.

D'lar was engrossed by the image of the young girl who would be, if the
embryo in Krysta's belly was allowed to live and grow. He felt his penis
swell. He had to concentrate to avoid his erection becoming obvious. At
projected age twelve, the girl radiated perfect pre-teenage beauty --
rounding hips, small petite breasts, fine hairs around her sex; at fifteen,
she looked stunning.

"That'll do," D'lar said. "I've seen enough."

"Make a nice familial, yes?" Le der said, winking at his commander
friend. "Just say the word and I'll cut this kid's womb out and take her
cutie. After some adjustments to design her to synthetic specifications,
I'll place your familial girl in an incubator. I can give you a six year
old in a month, a nine year old in less than two months." He looked down at
Krysta. "If you like I'll scoop out HER ovaries and keep them, just in
case you want another familial from her DNA." He looked at D'lar. "Well,
what's your call on this?"

D'lar thought. He wanted to say, but couldn't, that he didn't want
Krysta to be killed in order to harvest her baby. He also wanted to say he
preferred Krysta to have the baby naturally, after which the baby, as it
was, would be his girl familial. He scratched his head and gulped a time
or two. Le der was looking at him, waiting for a reply.

"I think ..." he started to say, "I think we'll leave things as they
are, and I'll bring her back for harvesting when the fetus in her belly is
bigger."

Le der opened his mouth to speak. But another's voice jolted both he
and D'lar.

"Oh, I don't think that would be wise. No, not wise at all," the voice
said. D'lar and his technician friend turned sharply.

It was Councilor Mardoh. =================

ELEVEN...

"You were right, Commander. This natural's embryo will make an
excellent familial. No need to delay, however. Extract her baby, dispose
of her, and then proceed as the technician suggests."

The Councilor took D'lar in sternly. She had obviously been lurking for
some time, he realized. She glanced up at the computer image of the girl
at age fifteen.

"With synthetic adjustments she'll be a perfect familial for you," she
said. "Have her fast-track incubated to a five year old. I would.
They're perfect at that age, so ...tender, fresh, and, oh, I don't know,
pleasurable to have around, with those small hands, little mouths, and soft
nervous little tongues. -- Ah, I almost envy you, D'lar ..."

The Councilor's voice trailed off. There was arousal in her voice, and
lust in her eyes.

D'lar drew breath. He was cornered, and knew it. He couldn't risk
getting offside with the Councilor. Whatever his inner feelings, the girl
Krysta could not be saved now.

"Of course not," he said stridently. "Perhaps I was just anxious not to
damage the embryo by removing it too early from her belly."

"Oh, no problem there," Le der cut in cheerfully. "I'll suck her gut
out in a flash; your familial will in the cooker before you know it,
D'lar." The technician rubbed his hands with glee, obviously looking
forward to opening Krysta up and extracting her baby.

"Good, then that's settled," Mardoh said, avoiding D'lar's eyes
directly. "Please proceed. I have time to stay and watch."

Le der worked the console. Krysta -- who could not hear the
conversation through the lab glass wall -- became alarmed as the bench
arched, pushing up her abdomen, and flexible metal arms took hold of her,
pulling her legs apart to hurting point, and various robotic maneuverable
instruments and tubes whirred into life around her.

For the first time, Krysta struggled against her fate. "I'll terminate
her with a jolt to the heart, then, after that, stretch her groin apart
until the passageway is open enough for removal of her uterus," Le der told
the others.

D'lar gulped. He had no choice but to watch. He'd seen hundreds of
naturals killed over the years. But it was different with this one.
Despite his synthetic design and training, he had become attached to the
young pregnant teenager. He wanted the baby girl in her belly as a
familial, yes. But he also wanted her too. He wanted them together, for
his own pleasure. The baby sucking on her nipples; growing up, pleasuring
him, mother and daughter, together...

But it was not to be. Then it got worse.

"No, don't terminate her like that," the Councilor commanded. "Just
give her the usual jab up the ass, and then proceed. The technician
smiled. He was happy to oblige, delighted to have her alive, if heavily
sedated, during the removal. "Fine," he said, "then I'll harvest her
ovaries."

A fixed, faint smile on D'lar's face belied an inner feeling of
impotence. In the field, amongst his men, his commands were law. But
against the powerful Councilor -- a consummate political animal -- he had
no defenses.

The thrust of the anesthetic syringe up Krysta's rectum caused her to
bellow. As grogginess overcame her, the tubes and metal arms entered her
vagina, slowly stretching her walls, dilating her cervix, until D'lar and
the others saw a large gaping hole in her groin. Her labia